


Bist Morgen

by BullWarrior



Series: Until Tomorrow. [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, Mentioned England (Hetalia), Mentioned France (Hetalia), Minor England/France (Hetalia), World War II
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-05-29 16:58:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6384781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BullWarrior/pseuds/BullWarrior
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ludwig is a German spy during WWII. However, when he is sent to Italy to investigate a brewing revolt, he ends up meeting Feliciano Vargas, an owner of a restaurant, and begins to work for him and live with him. With imminent danger ever-growing, will Ludwig protect those who have helped change his life, or will he fall back to the familiarity of his old one? </p><p>Story One of Three</p><p>Gerita, Gerita, Hetalia</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One: Arrival

 

Chapter One:

 

A man marched down the hall; a picturesque vision of what one could expect from a trained German soldier: a trained, straight back, a stony face that gave away no emotion that could be used against him, a walk that had purpose and power, making everyone else in the hall shy away from the echoing steps. This man was called Ludwig Beilschmidt. 

Ludwig was part of the German army during World War II, a powerhouse in itself, and he was considered an icon and a leader to many of his men; every man in the army looked up to his stoic features and wished themselves to be him. Ludwig was dutiful, strong, and very, very good at what he did. He gathered information, and he did it extremely well. Everyone knew of his tactics, and feared them, yet at the same time held them in the highest respect. They knew that no one could last more than an hour with the younger Beilschmidt, and were terrified to be put in that position. Ludwig knew that better than anyone.

Ludwig marched down a white, clean hall, completely silent except for the cold echo of his footsteps snapping against the floor. The head of his division had called for him personally, and he couldn’t help but wonder as to what the hell he wanted. Yes, he had been given countless missions before, but the season was turning to winter, and he was needed in the camps. Coughs and groans sounded behind closed doors and Ludwig unconsciously picked up his pace, not wanting his thoughts to wander to those prisoners, many of which he had hunted down and extracted information from himself. Ludwig paused. A change of scenery could be good for him.

Knocks hit the head’s door, a muffled ‘ja’ sounding through the wood to allow passage to the knocker. Ludwig carefully entered the office and saluted, the head relaying the same motion towards him. “ _Was ist, Kommandant_?” He asked, his eyes drifting around the room.

The Commander looked at him stonily, aware of his wariness of being in his office. “ _Sie Arbeit in Italien haben_.” Ludwig shifted his gaze back to the Commander and nodded, internally sighing with relief. Italy: it wasn’t terribly far, and it was a nice change of pace from the repetitive day-to-day life here at camp. He snapped a salute, getting a half-hearted one in return as the Commander gestured to the door with his eyes. Ludwig nodded and did an about-face, moving to exit the room when the Commander stopped him with his voice again. “ _Beilschmidt, halten Sie Ihren Verstand über Sie_.” Ludwig paused at that statement, but continued out the door to mull in his confusion. He knew that he would get more information during the trip that was set up for him already. He’s been doing this for a long time.

“WEST!” A shrill voice hollered down the corridor, making him jump and turn around, preparing to fight whatever threat was posing itself. A mass hit him full-on, and his instincts immediately kicked in. Quickly, Ludwig grabbed one of the opposing arms and twisted it before kicking the person’s legs out from under them, quickly following their path to the ground and digging his knee in their back, pinning them effectively. 

“ _Wer sind Sie_?” He growled, digging his fingers into the person’s hair. He tightened his grip and prepared himself to pull when he realized something was off about their hair. Their soft, familiar, silver…oh shit. 

Ludwig rolled off of his brother, pushing himself to a standing position and brushing off some nonexistent dust that had landed on him in their tussle. His brother’s signature laugh taunted him from the floor.

“Still got it in you, eh Lud?” The albino chuckled, getting to his feet as well, holding a hand to his shoulder as he rolled it, trying to get feeling back into the limb. Ludwig scrunched his face in confusion for a second as he processed what exactly his brother just said.

“Why…are you speaking English, Gilbert?” He asked, playing along with his obnoxious older brother. He knew that his brother would pester him throughout the entire day if this conversation lasted any longer, but he was genuinely curious as to what provoked him to speak in what he considered an ‘enemy language’. 

Gilbert laughed easily again before gesturing to his brother to follow him down the hall. Ludwig sighed, but complied. 

“A little birdy told me that you’re heading off to Italy soon.” He slipped a gaze to his older brother, who was confused as to the turn of events.

“Ja, so?” Gilbert chuckled again before brushing the hair out of his eyes.

“I’m going to be taking you there!” He paused, and the laughter in his voice faded away and the joy in his eyes dulled slightly, his lips pressed together in a sullen manner. Ludwig easily observed the change in demeanor, and was about to question it before the other continued. “You know, our last brother-bonding activity before I head out to the lines.” Gilbert paused again, a far-off look in his eyes as he seemed to drift away from reality. “Yeah…”

“Gilbert…” Gilbert didn’t look at him, instead fixing his gaze at the door located down the hall and fiddling with his keyring to find the match. Ludwig dropped what he was about to say, losing himself in his thoughts concerning the mission ahead. Yes, he’d done countless other ones, however they all were centered around Germany and sometimes France, never as far south as Italy. He sighed, unconsciously dreading the work to be done.

 

The train rattled down the tracks as Ludwig gazed out of the window. It had been a few hours since they left the Hauptbahnhof closest to the camp, and Gilbert was still attempting to inform Ludwig about the culture and journey there as well as trying to teach him some of the native language.

“ _Ciao_.”  
“Hmf.”

“Ludwig, _ciao_.”

“…”  
“Ludwig! C’mon! I know that you’re semi-decent at languages, just give it a try.”  
“C-c-cheese.”

Gilbert sighed, throwing his arms up and laying his head back. “I give up! You suck!” he exclaimed, making his brother stifle a smile. He seemed to sense it though, as Gilbert turned his head lazily towards the younger Beilschimdt. “Hey West.”  
“Hm.”  
“You do know what you’re going to be doing in Italy, right?”

Ludwig had to use every drop of energy in his veins to keep himself from strangling his brother right then and there. He grit his teeth, his eyes narrowing into slits as he attempted to stave his anger. His brother’s amused laughter at his reaction wasn’t helping his temper either.  
“Alright, alright. There’s been rumors in a village that we have contacts in that there are threats of uprisings. We currently have that town in our control, but we don’t want anything to spring up and ruin our plans.” Ludwig sighed at the explanation. It was going to be one of those runs.

“So what am I supposed to do?” Gilbert shot him his best ‘are-you-fucking-kidding-me-right-now’ glares before answering.

“Do what you do best: Take accounts in a public space and take ‘em down.” His tone shifted as his eyes narrowed. “The last thing this country needs is an uprising.”he spat to himself, glaring at the floor under his feet. Ludwig raised an eyebrow, but didn’t question him. His brother was still a mystery to him, even though they spent the duration of their lives together. Gilbert sighed before looking up and forcing a smile. “Don’t worry, our informants have a nice place picked out for you to eavesdrop in. I’ve heard that the food there’s really good-“

Ludwig zoned out after that. As much as he loved his brother, he just needed time to dedicate to his thoughts at the moment. With a sigh, he closed his eyes and leaned his head against the window, his body crashing from the thoughts of the journey and allowing him to fall into a deep slumber.

 

“Keep your wits about you, Beilschimdt.”

 

Ludwig jerked awake only to find himself still in the train with his brother snoring lightly near him. He sighed, running a hand down his face as he got up and stretched, trying to relieve his stiff limbs. He ghosted a smile of content when he heard popping. Ludwig glanced out of the window to find that the scenery was slowing down and that there were actually people popping up among the landscape. He sighed again before kicking his brother sharply in the shin. Gilbert jumped to his feet, startled and half-asleep before noticing that it was just Ludwig. He waved him off before grabbing Ludwig’s luggage and exiting their seats, closely followed by his younger brother. As they wandered down the aisle, Ludwig could sense a rising feeling of tension coming from the man in front of him. Gilbert was uncharacteristically stiff, his posture too formal and his walk too sharp. Ludwig was about to point this out when Gilbert sharply turned right and exited the train. Heaving a sigh, Ludwig followed, immediately hit with the Italian air, much fresher and crisper than that of the stuffy train car. Ludwig closed his eyes contentedly, breathing in the delicious air. A short chuckle shocked him from his moment of euphoria.

“Gonna have sex with the air, West?” His brother joked, earning him some glances from nearby men and women rushing their children away from the strange men. Ludwig watched them go, sighing deeply.

“You’re dead to me, Gilbert.” His brother laughed in return to that remark.

“I know, baby brother.” Ludwig groaned at that term, but graciously took his luggage from his brother anyways. A heavy silence fell over them, neither of them willing to part ways. Finally, Gilbert cleared his throat, looking slightly to the right of Ludwig. “Well, West, I guess that this is goodbye.” Ludwig watched as pain flooded into his brother’s eyes as he said those words, and he shook his head in response.

“ _Nein_.” Gilbert’s gaze jerked back to his younger brother’s face, his own draped in shock. Ludwig looked steadily at him before extending his hand. “ _Auf Wiedersehen, Bruder_.” He said quietly. Gilbert looked down at his outstretched hand before looking back up and engulfing his brother in a tight hug, causing him to drop his bag.

“ _Auf Wiedersehen. Viel glück._ ” He mumbled into his shoulder. Ludwig paused before returning the hug.

“ _Du auch._ ” With that, he separated himself from his older brother and took up his luggage, walking to the exit of the station. Before he left through the doors, he turned to look back at Gilbert. Gilbert lifted a hand in farewell before he was consumed in a swell of the crowd. Ludwig gazed at the space his brother had just been in before turning around and leaving the bustle of the station.

 

The damn car was late. Ludwig had been waiting here for exactly thirteen minutes and yet the stupid informant had the guts to delay him even further. He despised tardiness, and the situation was even worse as he was in a foreign country without any clue as to where exactly he was, and he couldn’t exactly ask directions. Maybe he should have payed attention to Gilbert’s lessons. Ludwig sighed, leaning his head on his hand and gazed out at the masses on the streets. They were making their way around, chattering seemingly to no end with each other and going about their lives as if there wasn’t a war going on; as if their lives weren’t in danger at any given second.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a car’s wheels screeching to a halt in front of where he was sitting and he recognized the vehicle from the description his brother gave him. With a hefty sigh, he pulled himself to his feet and towed his luggage to the car and opened the door, tossing the bag in before following after it. 

“Where to, sir?” The person in the front seat asked. Ludwig paused as he tried to remember the answer that he was supposed to give. It was code, of course. Everything nowadays was.

“To the vegetable garden.” He answered finally. The driver nodded and started the engine, tearing off to who-knows-where. Ludwig sighed, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. Traveling always drained him, especially when it involved going long distances on a train. Once again, he drifted off. He was always able to sleep better in a car than a train anyway.

 

“Sir, we’re here.” Ludwig jerked awake at the closeness of the voice before composing himself and grabbing his bag. He nodded at the driver in thanks before getting out, allowing them to close the door behind him and circle to the other side, getting in and driving off, leaving him utterly alone. Ludwig sighed, running a hand through his hair, feeling some of what was left of the hair gel from the previous day come off and stick to his fingers. He quickly wiped his hand off on his leg before heading towards the entrance to the building the driver dropped him off at. It seemed like a quaint restaurant from the outside; he just had to hope that the wrong people decided to get a bite to eat. 

Ludwig entered the building and was immediately greeted with the smell of cooking and the warmth of the building. It was busy, but it wasn’t crowded. Italian chatter filled the air and coated it with a feeling of welcomeness. The atmosphere was homely and inviting, the walls were a pleasant red and the tables were a comfortably confined size to keep its occupants close. Ludwig took a deep breath before going to a vacant table near the window and taking out his notepad from his pocket, his eyes sharp and on the lookout for suspicious activity. 

The day rounded to a close, and Ludwig yawned, attempting to go over his notes. “ _Mann in ein swartzes Hut, eine Frau mit gelben Blumen…nein_.” He sighed. All of this information was useless to him. He was just observing their behavior, not their conversations. Who knows, maybe they were acting normal for Italians. Yeah, that was probably the case. Ludwig was so invested in scolding himself mentally that he didn’t notice a pair of golden eyes watching him from the kitchen window.

The sound of footsteps approaching him startled Ludwig out of his trance as he jerked his head towards the noise, very wary of their owner. A man with an apron on and black underneath walked towards him, a slightly nervous smile playing upon his lips and his golden eyes shining in the lights that lit up the restaurant. His copper hair had a strange curl jutting out to the left, but even stranger was the plate of steaming pasta that he carried with him. Ludwig was immediately on guard, suspecting the worst from this man. 

As he neared the table, Ludwig tucked his notebook back into his jacket, clenching his jaw in anticipation. The man stopped about half a meter away before clearing his throat a little.

“ _Buongiorno_!” He exclaimed, smiling brightly at the stunned German. Ludwig blinked a little in confusion, and the Italian, sensing his hesitation switched languages hastily. “ _Lo siento. Habla español?_ ” A blank stare met him. The Italian scrunched up his nose in concentration, trying to think of any other languages. His face lit up and he snapped with his free hand. “Ah! Do you speak English?” Ludwig sighed and nodded. The man beamed as if he had won some sort of game. “Let’s try this again! Hello and welcome!” Ludwig blinked at him. The man sighed, defeated. “Maybe you don’t speak Engli-“  
“Sorry, I’m just confused as to what you are doing.” Ludwig interrupted. The man gave him a blank stare for a few seconds before remembering the plate of food in his hand. Immediately he became sheepish again.   
“Uh, sorry. It’s just, you know, you’ve been here all day without ordering anything and I thought, ‘well maybe he didn’t have any money to buy anything’ and I thought that you must be hungry, what with being around food and not eating anything all day so I decided to make you something. I know it’s not a lot, I just wanted to, well…here you go!” The Italian practically dumped the plate onto the table in front of Ludwig, who sat there without any real idea as to what to do. The man watched him intently, taking his hesitation as a sign of rejection. “I’m sorry, I knew that I should have asked you first, but no I just had to make you the pasta- I don’t even know if you can eat pasta! Oh god, you’re allergic, aren’t you? Dammit! I’m so sorry!” The Italian plunked down into the chair across from Ludwig, putting his head into the palms of his hands. Ludwig was filled with a strong sense of confusion as to what the hell this man was blabbering about, but cautiously picked up a fork and began eating anyway. Hell, the guy was right. Being around food all day made him extremely hungry. 

At the sight of the German eating the dish, the Italian perked up again. He cleared his throat a little. “Sorry for that. That wasn’t a real introduction, now was it.” He mumbled, leaning his weight onto his left hand, allowing the other to absentmindedly play with the edge of the tablecloth. Ludwig didn’t answer him, making an effort to invest his concentration on the food. The pasta was extremely good: it was well balanced yet had a melody of flavors that played around on his tongue. Ludwig couldn’t help but smile at the taste; it had been a while since he had food that was this amazing. 

The Italian watched him with interest, still leaning his chin on his hand. The German finished the plate in record time and carefully placed the silverware in their respectable positions before looking up at the man across from him. Their eyes met briefly, golden ones gazing into the sharp blue ones of the German, the blue analyzing the gold. After shifting their gazes away from the awkward eye contact, the German spoke.

“Thank you for the meal.” He placed his hands on top of the table, pushing up as he rose from his seat to leave. The Italian shook his head at him and gestured for him to sit back down. Ludwig wrinkled his eyebrows in confusion. The man smiled a little at him, still gesturing at the chair.

“Consider it payment for the food.” He said, looking at the German expectantly. Ludwig sighed and sat back down, pushing his empty plate to his left and out of the way. The Italian nodded before continuing. “So, what’s your name?” Ludwig glared at the man across from him at the question, making him cower in response, putting his arms up in surrender. “Sorry, sorry. Uh, what were you doing here all day?”Ludwig knew that he couldn’t state his actual reason, so he decided to steal the reason that the man gave to him.

“I was hungry.” He said simply, looking out of the window. The sun had long since set, and there weren’t any people left in the restaurant, save for himself, the strange man sitting across from him and a few elderly couples. The Italian hummed a little in response to Ludwig’s answer, making the latter look over at him, immediately noticing that the Italian was still staring at him. “What?” The man shrugged.

“Nothing, it just looks like you’re well fed. I was just wondering what had happened.” Ludwig froze internally at that statement. The Italian felt as if he had crossed a line and quickly backtracked. “Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean any offense.” Ludwig quickly came up with an excuse.

“No, it’s alright. I was just kicked out of my house earlier this week after my brother left to go to the frontline.” Only half of that was a lie, and the other was a painful truth. Ludwig looked down at his hands, immediately filled with a sense of worry for his brother. When he looked up, he saw the Italian looking at him with sympathy.

“I understand. Well, half of it at least.” He looked down, a tense pause emerging. After a few seconds, he looked back up. “My brother also went to fight.” He swallowed thickly. “That was a while ago, though. We haven’t heard anything from him for a long time.” He looked directly at Ludwig, who could feel the pain and worry overflowing from him. Ludwig blinked, unsure of what to do.

“I am sorry for you.” He finally stated, as gently as he could manage. The man looked directly at him again, his sorrow a little more hidden.

“My name is Feliciano Vargas.” He stated calmly, sticking his hand out, taking Ludwig a bit by surprise. Ludwig nodded and reached out to clasp his hand.

“Ludwig.” Feliciano’s eyes lit up.

“You’re from Germany!” He exclaimed, seeming to be excited by this discovery. Ludwig looked a little confused, but nodded, letting go of Feliciano’s hand. Feliciano grinned a little. “Makes sense that you can’t speak Italian then.” He said jokingly, getting up and grabbing Ludwig’s dishes. Ludwig rose as well, but before he could leave, the Italian called out to him, “Hey Luddy, could you clean these tables for me, please?” Ludwig felt a wave of confusion flow over him, but made his way back over to the tables.

“It’s Ludwig.” Feliciano simply giggled at him before tossing him a rag and pointing to a bucket of soapy water near the door to the kitchen.

“The water’s over there. Make sure that they’re spotless! We have a reputation to uphold!” Ludwig tossed his jacket over the back of his chair before he brought the water over to the table that he was working on cleaning up, his face tightened with yet another wave of confusion.

“We?” He asked, dunking the rag into the water and wringing it out before slapping it onto the table, concentrating on making circular motions like he had seen his brother do countless times before. Feliciano smiled at him again, as if the answer was obvious.

“Yeah! You don’t have a place to stay anymore, and you don’t have any money to stay at a hotel with, so you can stay here!” Ludwig paused his washing to look at the Italian man with disbelief.

“You’re giving me a place to stay.”  
“Yep!” 

“As well as work.”

“Yep!”

“Even though we just met.”  
“Uh-huh.”  
“And we know nothing about one another.” Feliciano laughed at that.

“Exactly, now finish those tables. I’ll be in the kitchen washing dishes if you need me.” With that, Feliciano took the stack of dirty dishes through the door and clattered them into the sink and out of sight.

Ludwig sighed and looked back down at the table, scrubbing off some dried tomato sauce from the surface and moving to the next table as he attempted to wrap his mind around what the hell just happened. A strange man that works here offered him food, a job, and a place to stay. His fist clenched around the fabric of the rag, wringing out some of the sudsy liquid. But what for? There had to be a reason as to why he was treating him with such kindness, right? What did he want? It wasalready established that he didn’t have any money, so it couldn’t be that. Free labor? No, the man didn’t seem the type. Why the hospitality? Why him? What made him different from every other person that came into the restaurant in the hopes to get some food to stave hunger? Not that he was particularly hungry anyways, and he had a place to fall back on, if he could find it. Ludwig exhaled deeply in a sigh before moving to the next table. He really should have payed more attention to his brother during the trip over. Suddenly Ludwig paused. His brother. They both had a brother that was sent to fight. Victoriously, Ludwig drowned the surface of the new table with water, almost giddy with the fact that he had figured it out. So giddy, that he didn’t hear the footsteps of the man approaching or even noticed his presence until a light giggle sounded from directly behind him, making him jump and accidentally knock the bucket over. Ludwig sighed, looking at the mess before glaring at the man.

“It isn’t polite to sneak up on people.” He scolded, attempting to soak up the sudsy mess with his already drenched rag. Feliciano giggled again, before bending down next to him with his own rag. They pushed the water around the floor for a solid three minutes before Ludwig huffed in distaste. “This is unacceptable.” he grumbled, pushing himself to a standing position. Feliciano simply looked up at him from the floor with a strong sense of humor in his eyes.

“There’s a mop in the cabinet in the corner.” He said finally, a smile pulling at his lips. Ludwig glared down at the Italian man before stalking off the retrieve the tool. He came back with it in hand, a scowl gracing his features. Feliciano looked up at his expression and his happiness dulled significantly, making him look back down and fiddle with the rag in his hand. Ludwig felt as if he did something wrong, so he silently began mopping up the mess, soaking up the water and then wringing it out into the bucket. Feliciano watched his movements, still sitting cross-legged in the puddle. Ludwig sighed when he saw the Italian sitting in the middle of the drenched floor.

“Feliciano, you’re going to have to move.” The man in question looked up, before nodding and getting up, taking their rags and disappearing through the kitchen door. Ludwig watched him go before putting all of his focus into sopping up the rest of the puddle. He was very out of character for himself: he allowed himself to get snuck up on by that man on more than one occasion, he was drowning in his thoughts, and he was doing housework for a person he barely even knew. Ludwig paused in his motions. Maybe if he got close enough to Feliciano, he could find out more about the events that are going on in this town. Hell, maybe Feliciano was part of the plans for the uprising. Ludwig resumed his motions, chuckling humorlessly to himself. Now that was a thought.

Once the water was completely vanished from the floor, Ludwig took the bucket back to its original position and put the mop back into its respective closet.

“Feliciano, the mess is gone.” He called, standing in front of the door to the kitchen. A couple dishes clattered around, followed by something said in Italian before the mentioned man came out of the door, slightly damp with his hair a little out of place. Ludwig raised his eyebrow at the man’s appearance, but said nothing. Feliciano attempted to smooth out his hair, instead making it worse in the process. It took every ounce of willpower that Ludwig had to not burst out laughing at the sight. Feliciano seemed to notice anyways, and his eyes lit up a little, reflecting the good humor. He clapped his hands together, and Ludwig noticed that he wasn’t wearing his apron anymore, instead just wearing his button-up black dress shirt and black slacks. His shirt wasn’t tucked in anymore, and he was missing his tie, instead had his shirt unbuttoned at the collar and the one underneath it, exposing part of his collarbones. Ludwig mentally raised an eyebrow at his appearance, but once again, said nothing. Feliciano smiled at him before gesturing for Ludwig to follow him.

“I’ll show you where you’ll be staying!” He trotted towards the opposite side of the restaurant to a door nearby the broom closet and took out a key that was around his neck, unlocking the door and stepping to the side, gesturing for Ludwig to enter through the doorway. Ludwig reluctantly did as he was told, and found a narrow stairway in front of him. Feliciano laughed at his hesitation, closing the door and locking it behind them before circling to be in front of the German and lead him up the stairs. When they reached the top, there was a landing that opened up to a decently-sized room with a few couches clustered in a corner and a table with chairs surrounding it to the left of them. The floors were wooden, yet partially covered with large, mismatched rugs that lay underneath the couches and table. There wasn’t a very large kitchen, just a stovetop and an oven as well as a few cabinets and counters in the corner opposite the couches. There was a narrow hall across the room from the couches and the table, and it housed a few doors. Nearby the hall was a set of steep stairs that led to a trapdoor, and to what Ludwig assumed was the attic. Feliciano smiled a little, watching Ludwig soak up the apartment. “I know it’s not much, but it houses fine.” With that, he went into the kitchen and put the stove on, placing a kettle over the flame. “Care for some coffee?” He asked, opening up a cabinet and grabbing two mugs without waiting for an answer. Ludwig sighed a bit.

“I suppose.” The Italian beamed at the answer and busied himself to make the drinks. 

“You can have a seat, you know.” He said when he looked over his shoulder to see that Ludwig was awkwardly standing in the middle of the living area. Ludwig nodded a little before heading towards the window and gazed out of it. He didn’t notice it before, but it housed a window seat, covered with a cushion and myriad amounts of pillows. He placed a hand on top of the cushion and pressed down uncertainly. He heard a giggle from the other side of the room at his movements.

“It’s perfectly safe, Ludwig.” Feliciano said, heading over to the German with two steaming cups of coffee in hand. He offered one to Ludwig, who graciously took it and held it, the heat from the mug warming, his hands. Well, more like scalding. He jumped, accidentally spilling some of the dark liquid onto himself with a yelp as he desperately tried to grip the handle. This prompted Feliciano to burst out laughing, bending in half, and clutching his stomach at the sight of Ludwig having difficulty over a simple cup of coffee. Ludwig scowled at him before heading to the table and placing the cup down not-so-gently. Feliciano snorted at his movements again, before taking to the window bench and sitting in it gracefully, sipping on the hot liquid. Ludwig did his best to ignore him, instead reaching for the notebook in his jacket… his jacket that he left downstairs along with the medium-sized bag of his belongings. 

Ludwig cursed to himself as he rose abruptly from the table, startling Feliciano from his place on the window bench. Ludwig mumbled an apology before heading down the stairs, only to find the door locked.

“Feliciano!” He yelled. “The door is locked! Unlock it!” 

The Italian stumbled down the stairs as quickly as he could, coffee still in hand, though it was sloshing over the brim of the cup and burning his skin. He grit his teeth together to keep himself from crying out and met Ludwig at the bottom, fumbling for the key around his neck. He glanced up at the German’s face and was met with the sight of stony determination, and it scared him. Ludwig was glaring a hole in the lock, seeming to threaten it open with his thoughts. Feliciano swallowed thickly as he felt his body temperature drop, and he shakily unlocked the door in front of him. Ludwig burst through it as soon as it clicked, the key still in the lock, and made his way into the main eating area. Feliciano yelped as he was pulled with the momentum of the door, causing him to get knocked off balance and slam his face into the wood, the rest of his coffee scalding his right arm as he landed hard on the ground. 

Ludwig had grabbed his bag and jacket when he heard the cry, and turned around to findFeliciano on the floor, gripping the side of his face. Ludwig froze. Cautiously, he approached the anxious Italian, who turned his face away from him and stood up, grabbing the key quickly from the door and spinning on his heel, rushing up the stairs to the apartment area. Ludwig sighed, closing the door behind him as he followed Feliciano’s path and found him huddled in the window bench, his face turned towards the window and cradling his arm. Ludwig grabbed a chair from the dining table and dragged it over to where the Italian was curled up, pointedly ignoring him.

“Feliciano.” He said finally, sitting down and leaning forward, his forearms pressed against his thighs. The Italian said nothing, continuing to stare at the window. Ludwig sighed, guilt bubbling up in his stomach. This man had offered him food, a place to stay and a job, and within the first hour of his residence he had already managed to hurt him. Ludwig took a deep breath. “Feliciano, I’m-“

“You’re a soldier, aren’t you.” Ludwig froze at the accusation. He had managed to be found out so quickly? By a restaurant employee? Feliciano turned to look at him, and Ludwig could clearly see a small gash on the side of his face, the area around it slightly swollen and bruising. However, it was his eyes that caused a twinge of sorrow in Ludwig’s chest: 

they weren’t disappointed, or angry, they were just fearful. 

Ludwig ducked his head to avoid his gaze, allowing his silence to answer Feliciano’s question. The Italian sighed, and Ludwig could feel their eyes burning across his body. Finally, he looked up and caught a glimpse of Feliciano’s arm, still cradled and turning redder by the minute. Ludwig got up, thankful for the welcome distraction as he started searching the kitchen for a first aid kit, or at least bandages. Finally finding it in a lower cabinet buried behind five thousand pots, he arose and grabbed a cloth, soaking it in cold water and grabbing a bowl and filling it with the water as well before heading back over to the Italian, who was watching him curiously. Ludwig tried his best to ignore the fact that he was staring at him as he attempted to clean the cut on Feliciano’s face. Feliciano flinched away from the contact, scrunching his face up with pain. Ludwig rolled his eyes.

“Feliciano, you’re going to need to stay still.” The Italian groaned a little, but obeyed his orders, flinching every now and then when the cloth rubbed his tender skin a little too harshly. “Sorry, sorry.” Ludwig murmured, finally lowering the cloth to look at the damage that was dealt.

Feliciano has a fairly deep gash in the left side of his face, deeper than Ludwig originally anticipated. The German sighed. That was probably going to need stitches. He left that thought be, however, and moved onto the Italian’s arm, dipping the warming cloth into the bowl of cold water. Feliciano hissed at the contact when Ludwig placed the cloth gently onto his blistering skin. 

“Talk to me.” He growled, making Ludwig look up at his face in confusion.

“What?” The Italian’s face was contorted in pain, his arm slightly shaking.

“Talk to me, distract me, _crapola_ this hurts.” He winced, trying to take his arm out from under the cloth. Ludwig sighed, and decided to ease his curiosity as well as help out this guy.

“Fine. How did you know that I was a soldier?” Yes, he knew that he just admitted to being a German soldier, however he didn’t need to tell Feliciano which branch. He had _some_ sense of confidentiality. Feliciano sighed and looked down, not wanting to meet the German’s gaze. Not that he could, as said German was intensely focused on staring down Feliciano’s arm to avoid his gaze as well.

“Easily enough.” He mumbled. Ludwig looked up again in confusion, but Feliciano had kept his gaze down, his hair fallen into his face. “My family has been in fights, wars, battles and the like as far back as I can remember. I know the look. My brother had it before he left, my mother and father had it before they died, my grandfather had it when he came back.” He laughed a little to himself. “My brother’s best friend was scared half to death when he saw it. He begged Lovi not to go because he never wanted to see that look again.” Ludwig noticed the change in demeanor in Feliciano when he mentioned his brother’s friend, so he decided to go down that path.

“Who is your brother’s friend?” He asked, a lot gentler than he wanted it to be. He cringed inwardly at his own tone of voice, but Feliciano perked up immediately.

“His name’s Antonio, though everyone calls him Toni, except for Lovi of course. But Lovi’s a bit of an ass sometimes, so he refuses to admit that he is even friends with Toni, and he’s so blind! Anyone alive can see how he feels about my brother!” He laughed again, he face brightening up. “Toni works here, too! Well, the only reason he did it originally was to get closer to my brother, but he ended up falling in love with the place, as anyone would! But he’s not in right now, he’s been gone for a week to do training or something. He should be back soon though!” 

Ludwig’s face scrunched up. This ‘Toni’ guy had a thing for Feliciano’s brother? But that would make him-

“He’s gay.” He said shortly, looking up at Feliciano. The Italian froze, not having any desire to speak. Ludwig raised an eyebrow. “You said that he likes your brother.” Feliciano immediately waved his hands around frantically, paying no attention to the fact that his arm hurt like hell.

“No, no! I didn’t say anything like that! You misunderstood me! I meant that-“

“ _Hola_ Feli!” The sound of a door closing was followed by a cheerful voice that had called from downstairs, making both of them freeze. They listened intensely to the footsteps as they approached the stairs, pushing the door open. “ _Dios mio_ , Feli, you left the door open!” The same voice said, closer this time. The two people near the window bench looked at each other with uncertainty as they heard the person climbing the stairs towards them. Finally, a figure reached the top of the stairs, immediately seeing the two of them. 

The man was decently tall, and well built at that. Not bulky, but definitely toned. His skin displayed many hours working in the sun, and his hair was a dark, curly mat at the top of his head. His eyes were a gentle green, however they hardened immediately when he saw Ludwig frozen in place.

“Who the hell are you.” He growled, making his way over to the pair. His eyes narrowed further when he saw the Italian’s arm. “What the hell have you done to Feli?” Feliciano chuckled nervously.

“This is Ludwig, Toni! He’s going to be staying here and working with us!” ‘Toni’ looked over at Ludwig and dragged his gaze up and down his body, obviously judging him. He looked back at Feliciano expectantly. Feliciano laughed anxiously again before continuing. “I spilled coffee on myself and ran into a door, it’s fine! Complete accident!” Antonio raised his eyebrow before sighing and ruffled the Italian’s hair affectionately.

“You really need to be more careful.” He mumbled, making Feli giggle. He looked back over at Ludwig, all ice in his gaze completely melted away. “I’m Antonio! Welcome to the team!” He beamed, sticking out his hand towards Ludwig. Ludwig carefully took it, still thinking about what Feliciano had said earlier.

“Ludwig.” He said, releasing his hand before looking at Feliciano sideways. The Italian gave him a nervous smile before he yelped, getting dragged to his feet by a certain Antonio. 

“Toni! Stop! I’m fine!” He laughed as Antonio was intensely staring down the cut in his face. Toni simply rolled his eyes before grabbing the first aid kit and dragged him down the hallway, Feliciano complaining the entire way.

Ludwig arose when they closed themselves into a room, walking over to his coat and pulled out his notebook, turning to a new page. Grabbing a pen from his pocket he scratched down what may have been the first lead he’d gotten since arriving:

_Antonio ??_

_Ethnicity: likely Spanish_

_In shape, built_

_Gone for a week due to ‘training’_

_Works for Vargas_

_Homosexual_


	2. Chapter Two: Affiliation

Chapter Two:

 

Ludwig remained busy through the next couple of days that he resided with Vargas and Antonio, who he discovered was indeed Spanish, and proud of it at that. Whenever the German asked him about his homeland, Antonio would be spurred into the beauty and culture of the place, and go way off topic of the actual question that he was asked. It wasn’t that Ludwig minded, exactly; he just found it interesting that someone left a place they were so partial to.

He was sitting at a table after closing, reviewing his notes from that day. Feliciano worked him as a busboy, but said that if he tried to improve his Italian, he could one day be upgraded to a waiter. That always made Ludwig chuckle. Him, waiting on people? Not in a million years. However, Feliciano was insistent on having him learn the language anyways, as he always said, “Luddy, if you’re going to live here, you’re going to have to be able to speak with other people! Honestly, what if you get lost? You wouldn’t be able to ask for directions!” 

Ludwig rolled his eyes. Feliciano was a little protective of him ever since he stepped foot under his roof. To be honest though, he didn’t completely mind. Yes, it was strange for him to be ordered around and fussed over by an overly cheerful Italian that was shorter than him. When he thought about it though, it reminded him a little of his father. 

He shuddered. He never wanted to compare Feliciano to his father again.

“Luddy! Are you ready for your lesson!” Ludwig jumped at the sudden voice that startled him out of his thoughts, quickly shutting his notebook and tucking it into his pocket. Feliciano practically skipped over to him and sat in the seat across from him, slamming a stack of paper down on the table. 

Ludwig sighed. 

“It’s Ludwig.” Feliciano simply scoffed at him. “What torture do you have in store for me today?” He grumbled, eying the papers suspiciously. The Italian giggled, making Ludwig groan a little. “What’s got you in such a good mood?” Feliciano simply beamed at him.

“You’ll find out soon enough!” Ludwig sighed again, watching as Feliciano busied himself with organizing the papers, still smiling to himself. His eyes fell onto the other’s arm. He wasn’t wearing the bandages anymore, and the burn seemed to almost be completely healed. Ludwig wrinkled his eyebrows a little, and before he could stop himself, he reached over and lightly brushed his fingers across the skin.

“You heal very quickly.” He said absentmindedly. Feliciano watched as his fingers traced over the scars, not making a move to remove his arm. Suddenly, Ludwig realized what he was doing and quickly pulled his hand away with an awkward clearing of his throat. “S-sorry. What do you have planned for today?” Feliciano simply laughed at his discomfort. 

“We’re going to be learning about food! You’re studying to be a waiter, after all.”   
Ludwig sighed again. Right. The waiter thing. Ludwig had no idea as to why this guy was so intent on having him work there as a waiter. Sure, he seemed a little low on workers, but he seemed to be able to hire just about anyone. They were in the middle of a war, there were plenty of people looking for jobs. However, whenever he brought this up with Feliciano, he always insisted that this was a family-run business, and that he couldn’t hire just anyone. That always made him think. 

“Ludwig! _Mela_!” Ludwig jumped as Feliciano gently hit him on the head with a rolled up piece of paper. 

“Sorry, what?” He asked, rubbing the affected area on his head. Feliciano rolled his eyes a little, but a small smile was present on his face. 

“ _In italiano_ , Ludwig.” Ludwig sighed.

“ _Scusa, che cosa_?” Feliciano nodded a little.

“Close, but it’s _mi displace_ , not _scusa_.” Ludwig groaned a little, making the Italian giggle. “Hey, cheer up! You’re doing great! Now say _mela_.” He saw the slightly confused look on the German’s face. “It means apple, it’s not a hard one.” He encouraged. Ludwig sighed again and ran his fingers through his gelled-back hair, slightly messing it up.

“ _Mela_.” He mumbled. Feliciano clapped his hands together, beaming.

“ _Fantastico_! Now, _uva_.”

The lesson went like that for about an hour before Ludwig began to grow tired, and started to zone out, simply repeating what Feliciano was saying and not bothering to know the meaning anymore. Feliciano noticed this almost immediately, and smiled a little to himself.

“Good job today, Luddy.” He said, standing up and stretching. He watched as the German did the same thing before heading over to the door that led to the apartment. “Buona notte!” He called out before the door closed, getting a muffled ‘gute Nacht’ in return. He sighed, bunching his papers together before heading into the main kitchen in the restaurant. He tucked the stack of paper into one of the cabinets before taking another key from around his neck and locking it, standing back up and looking around. He heard a noise coming from the closet in the corner of the room, and he moved towards it suspiciously. Slowly, he turned the knob and threw the door open, clenching his fists in front of him.

“ _Hola_ , Feli.” Antonio mumbled, sitting in the middle of the closet. Feliciano sighed, going and sitting next to the Spaniard, gently resting his head on his shoulder. Antonio didn’t move, he just kept staring at the objects in front of him.

“I know that you miss him, Toni, but you can’t keep doing this.” He said quietly, staring ahead as well.

There were boxes of Lovino’s things stacked on top of each other, as they had to move into storage to allow there to be more room in the apartment. There wasn’t all that much stuff, however hanging in front of the boxes was a spare uniform that had belonged to Lovino. He had accidentally left it behind before he went out to fight, and it pained both Antonio and Feliciano to see it. It reminded them that he could be dead, he could be injured, hell, he could be in one of those horrible labor camps. Antonio sighed, putting his head in his hands.

“I’m tired of waiting, Feli. I’m tired of not knowing if he’s okay or not.” His voice was muffled by his hands, but the shaking of his shoulders indicated that he had started to cry. Feliciano gently rubbed his back, trying to stop his own tears from forming. It failed, however, and soon the room was full of the sound of sobbing as the two men clung onto each other.

 

The next morning Antonio refused to get out of his bed, making Feliciano have to push Ludwig into waiting on tables. He decided to bring up the topic as they were sitting at the dining table eating their breakfast.

“Where’s Antonio?” Ludwig asked, glancing around and not seeing any sign of the Spaniard. Feliciano sighed, looking into his cup of coffee as he stirred it. 

“He’s not doing too well today.” He said, before looking up at Ludwig with sad eyes, making the German internally cringe. “Do you think you can wait the tables for today?” Ludwig sighed, not being able to turn away from the puppy eyes.

“Fine, fine. Just stop looking at me like that!” Feliciano beamed at him.

“Great! Now there’s just a few things that you need to remember and then we’re all set!”

 

Turns out that waiting on tables wasn’t the worst thing in the world for Ludwig. Many of the customers were drawn towards the accent in his speech, and the way he walked around as if he was made to do this job. Granted, Ludwig couldn’t help either of those things, as one was just the way he talked and the other was just the way he walked. By the middle of the day though, he had collected an admirable amount of names and numbers, all of them crumpled into an unidentifiable mass in his left pocket.

Ludwig shifted uncomfortably in his waiter’s uniform. Well, technically it was Antonio’s uniform that he was borrowing for the day, which explains why it made him a little bitter. The sleeves and pants were too short, forcing him to tuck his pant legs into a pair of mid-calf boots and to roll his sleeves up to just below his elbow. The buttons barely fit over his torso, as he had a lot more muscle mass than Antonio in his upper areas. He was allowed to skip the tie, thank god. All-in-all, it was an awkward experience for the German. 

“Buongiorno. Come posso aiutarti?” Ludwig mumbled, not being able to help but look at the clock in the corner of the dining room. He had a little less than two and a half hours before it was time to close. Ludwig didn’t know how the hell Antonio was able to stay chipper throughout the day; he had been drained of any positive energy since around two-o-clock. It was now eight. 

However, being in the position of a waiter had its perks. For instance, he was able to tell a lot more about the people as he had a chance to talk to them. Ludwig’s Italian was definitely sub-par, however the customers were very patient with him. He was able to detect suspicious activity a lot easier as the day went on, and his notebook was filling up nicely. Not only that, but he was able to get their names much easier and more casually. 

A clearing of the throat startled Ludwig, making him realize with embarrassment that he had zoned out. 

“You okay, dude? You were really out of it.” The man at the table chuckled, making the person sitting across from him sigh and roll their eyes.

“Don’t be rude, Alfred.” The other man said quietly, looking intently at the menu with a hint of interest. The man that Ludwig now realized was Alfred laughed loudly, rubbing the back of his head. The other man sighed again before looking up at Ludwig apologetically. He appeared a little confused at his silence, so he decided to speak up. “Sorry, uh, do you happen to speak English?” Ludwig blinked a little before nodding. He smiled a little at the waiter before gesturing to Alfred and then himself. “That’s Alfred, he’s a little loud, but he means well. And my name is Matthew.” Ludwig nodded again before pulling out his notebook and jotted a few notes down before clearing his throat and switching to the pad he used to take orders.

“Ludwig. What can I get for you to drink today?”

Immediately the two at the table froze. Alfred slid his gaze over towards Matthew, who shook his head a little. Alfred looked back over at Ludwig, his eyes much harder than they were at their first meeting. 

“A water’s fine.” He glanced at Matthew again. “For both of us.” Matthew exhaled deeply before looking out of the window. Ludwig nodded, immediately feeling nervous around the duo, quickly jotting down their drink order before rushing off into the kitchen.

 

“Feliciano!” He hissed, pressing his hands against one of the counters that held orders to be taken out. The Italian jumped a little, whipping around at his tone of voice. Once he saw that it was just Ludwig, he placed a hand over his heart and exhaled forcibly.

“Ludwig! You startled me!” He laughed before picking his knife back up. “You could’ve gotten hurt.” Ludwig bit his lip anxiously.

“Feliciano, you don’t understand. There are _Americans_ here.” 

Feliciano dropped his knife before looking up at the German again.

“They don’t suspect you, do they?” Ludwig didn’t answer, looking awkwardly at the cooling food in front of him. Feliciano whispered something under his breath before carefully tucking the knife under his apron and into his belt. “I hope they don’t mean to cause trouble. That would be bad for all of us.” He quickly placed a pan off of the heat before rounding the counter with two glasses. “Well, what did they want to drink?” He asked, trying his best to appear confident. Ludwig sighed, running his hand through his hair, not bothering to fix the gelled-back shell. He didn’t know why those two people were making him so nervous. Usually he would not even be affected by their presence, but now…

Feliciano brushed by him with two glasses of water, a small scowl present on his face as he pushed through the door leading to the dining area. Immediately when he was exposed to the faces in the room he plastered on a smile, walking straight up to the two Westerners, glasses in hand. Ludwig caught glimpses as the door swung closed, frozen in place. Finally, he regained his thoughts and quickly followed after the Italian. He cursed internally when he saw that he had already engaged the men in conversation, still holding the waters.

Feliciano turned and saw Ludwig, giving him an easy smile which put ‘Alfred’ on edge.

“Why the hell do you have a Kraut workin’ for you?” He scowled, leaning forward on his arms with clenched fists and a hard expression. The one that Ludwig recalled to be Matthew was glaring harshly across the table towards Alfred. 

“Alfred,” He hissed. “don’t be rude. We’re guests at this establishment. They can hire whomever they like.” Feliciano smiled a little at Matthew before gently placing a glass of water in front of him. Alfred was still shooting daggers at Ludwig, making the Italian’s eyes grow cold. He carelessly tossed the glass towards Alfred, causing it to lose balance and tip over onto the American. 

Immediately he shot up, cursing loudly before turning on Feliciano.

“You fucking idiot! What the fuck is wrong with you! Don’t you know how to treat your goddamn customers!” Alfred slammed his hands down on the table, causing Matthew’s glass to get knocked over as well. The latter just sighed before rising to his feet, leaning towards Alfred.

“Al, you need to calm dow-” he began before getting quickly cut off.

“Like hell!” Alfred flung a hand towards the Italian and the German, fury obvious in his eyes. The other customers were looking towards each other, obviously uncomfortable with what was going on. “These Nazis are fucking incapable! No wonder we’re beating them in this damn war!” He hollered.

The next thing he knew, he was getting pinned against the wall, a kitchen knife poised at his throat. Feliciano gazed at him steadily and unsympathetically, his golden eyes sending a shiver down Alfred’s spine.

“Don’t you dare call us Nazis again, otherwise there’s going to be something red on this table, and it is not going to be tomato sauce.” He hissed in a low voice, making Alfred shrink back for a second before regaining control of himself. He spat off to the side. 

“Whatever. Let me go and we’ll leave your pathetic asses alone, quiche?”

Ludwig and Feliciano exchanged an awkward glance before looking back at the pinned American.

“Quiche?” Feliciano repeated, obviously incredibly confused. Alfred looked down with the same amount of confusion, knife forgotten.

“Yeah, isn’t that how you say understand or something?” He asked. Matthew sighed before grabbing Alfred by the wrist and tugging him away.

“I’m honestly sorry about him.” He cast a glance around before ducking his head a little. “I’m also sorry about the disturbance. Buona notte.” He murmured before dragging Alfred out of the restaurant.

Feliciano wiped off the knife on his apron before tucking it back out of sight. Although slowly fading, anger was still present in his gaze. He grabbed a rag from his back pocket and started cleaning up the spilled drinks.

“We’re closing early.” He grumbled before tossing the rag down and walking towards the remaining customers. Ludwig sighed, tension still flowing through his veins. He picked up the abandoned cloth and continued to wipe down the table. A few moments later, he heard a jingle of keys as Feliciano locked the main door and tossed the sign to signal that they were closed. Finally finished with the table, Ludwig turned around to find the mop bucket when he was attacked. Well, attacked isn’t exactly the right word for it. He was consumed in a hug by Feliciano.

Ludwig froze. He had no idea how to react to this. The last time that his brother had tried to hug him, he jumped him and nearly broke his arm. Yet here he was, frozen. No instincts had kicked in yet, which, in a way, scared him half to death. Was he going soft?  
Feliciano pulled away from the German, a small smile on his face. Without saying anything else, he turned around and walked away towards the door leading upstairs, leaving Ludwig alone. 

Ludwig stood frozen in place, unsure of how to continue. He heard the muffled chatter of people on the street outside, and felt compelled to go for a walk. He broke out the spare key and unlocked the door, stepping outside into the chill of the winter air. Before Ludwig could take another step, however, the door swung open again, causing him to whip around. Feliciano stood in the doorway, a tiny smile on his face.

“Just where do you think you’re going?” He asked, walking out and closing the restaurant door behind him. Ludwig felt embarrassed for some reason, stammering on his words.

“Uh, well- I was- you know, going for a walk?” He managed to finally get out. Feliciano cocked an eyebrow at him, but didn’t push him any further for information.

“Mind if I join you then?” He finally asked, turning and locking the door behind him before looking expectantly at the German. Ludwig couldn’t help but sigh a little, but nodded nonetheless. Feliciano beamed at him and started heading down the road with Ludwig trailing after him.

 

For a while it was silent, yet they managed to sync up their steps, Feliciano slowing down slightly to walk alongside the German. Ludwig let out a long breath, watching the cloud vanish slowly into the night. What he didn’t know was that Feliciano was watching his every move. Finally, he spoke.

“Why did you come to Italy, Ludwig?” The Italian asked, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants and looked at Ludwig out of the corner of his eye. Ludwig felt a bubble of panic rise from his stomach, but he quickly shoved it back down.

“New start.” He said shortly, hoping that that would be enough for the nosy Italian. Well, this was really the first time that Feliciano had ever question his motives, but even once felt like too many times. 

Feliciano simply laughed a little, looking back in front of them.

“Don’t I know that feeling.” He said quietly, his eyes appearing a little lost. Ludwig frowned a little, but didn’t want to push the Italian. Feliciano felt his tension, so he continued. “I was supposed to go, you know.” He looked over at Ludwig, who allowed confusion to be obvious on his face.

“What do you mean by that?” Ludwig asked, pausing in his steps. Feliciano stopped as well, before looking over to the side and headed towards a tree nearby. Ludwig followed, curiosity getting the better of him. They sat down, propped against the trunk of the tree, the light from the streetlights filtering through the flakes of snow as they began to slowly fall. Ludwig watched the scene, a smile forced back to allow him to keep his stoic composure. He looked down at the Italian on his right, and he couldn’t hold it back anymore. 

Feliciano was gazing out at the scene in front of him, a large smile gracing his face as he watched the snow catch the light. He looked up at Ludwig, eyes shining. Ludwig quickly smothered his in response, and looked down at his hands. Feliciano giggled a little before leaning his head back against the trunk of the tree and sighing, his mood changing immediately.

“I was supposed to go out and fight in the war. Antonio didn’t have to because he technically isn’t an Italian citizen, and Lovi…well, yeah. He wasn’t exactly happy about the fact that I had to leave.”

 

“No! This is bullshit!” Lovino screamed, throwing the thing closest to him, which turned out to be a glass of wine. His grandfather sighed.

“Lovi, he is the only one of us that can go. I’m too old, and you-”

“What about me, huh?! Am I not appealing enough to the stupid-ass government?” He yelled, reaching for something else when a hand caught his wrist.

“Lovi, please, you need to calm down.” Antonio pleaded, gently squeezing his wrist. Lovino looked at him coldly, his eyes preaching murder. 

“I am not going to allow my little brother to be murdered by soldier scum.” He growled, tearing himself out of Antonio’s grip. His grandfather reached out to him this time.

“Lovino, there isn’t anything that you can-”

“Like hell! There’s always something I can do! I’m Lovino-fucking-Vargas!” He yelled finally before storming off. The sound of a door slamming from across the house echoed through the rooms. Antonio sighed, slumping into one of the wooden dining chairs. He looked up at the older man sadly.

“You don’t think he’s going to-”

“He’s definitely going to. It’s going to break Feliciano’s heart.” The older man said coldly before turning and leaving the room. Antonio sat in silence for a while before tucking his head into his hands, letting out a shaky breath. After a few seconds, he allowed himself to break down.

 

“But how do you know this when you weren’t there?” Ludwig interrupted. He had adjusted the way that he was sitting so that he’d be facing the storyteller. Feliciano smiled sadly at him.

“I was upstairs. We have thin walls in that house, so I could hear everything.” He looked away suddenly, almost ashamed. “I was in my room because I couldn’t exactly face the fact that I was going to be thrown into a war.” The two of them sat in quiet silence for a while before Feliciano continued.

“A week later Lovino was deployed. We were all messes except for him.” He laughed bitterly, looking down at his clenched hand that rested in his lap. “I guess he thought that he had to be the strong one. He was always the strong one.” Feliciano wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, turning away from Ludwig. “Sorry, it’s hard to talk about him.” Ludwig nodded a little with understanding. Awkwardly, he placed a heavy hand onto Feliciano’s shoulder, rubbing his thumbs in circles in an attempt to comfort the Italian. Feliciano burst into tears suddenly, collapsing into the German. They didn’t say anything, just allowed the snow to fall around them.

 

“Took you two long enough.” Antonio grumbled when Feliciano and Ludwig came up the stairs, shivering as they shed their jackets off. He walked over to the table where there were two cups waiting and poured some hot coffee. Feliciano looked up at Ludwig before bursting into laughter. The German glanced down at him in confusion before realizing what he was laughing about and immediately joined him. Antonio stared at them as if they were insane, but slightly smiled nonetheless, placing the coffeepot back down on the table. “Have something warm and go to bed.” He ordered them, pushing the duo towards the dining table. Feliciano grumbled something in his general direction but obeyed, yawning.

“What time is it anyways?” He asked, plunking down in one of the wooden chairs before sipping delicately on the hot liquid.

“Around half-past midnight.” Antonio yawned, stretching before heading off towards the steep stairway. A slam later, and then Ludwig and Feliciano were left alone again. They sat in silence for a while, casually drinking their coffee. Finally, Feliciano spoke.

“There’s been rumors going around recently.” He said shortly, bringing his cup to his lips and looking over the brim at Ludwig expectantly. Ludwig sighed. He was tired, but he complied anyways.

“What type of rumors?” He asked, leaning the weight of his head onto his left hand as he looked across the table at the Italian. His eyes narrowed when he realized that this might be important information, so he asked again. “What type of rumors, Feliciano?”

“Apparently Germans think that this town is under their control and that they’re losing it.” Feliciano put his cup down, looking directly into Ludwig’s eyes. “It’s kind of funny, don’t you think?” Ludwig didn’t know how to react to this information.

“What do you mean?” He pushed, trying to decode what the Italian was saying. Feliciano sighed.

“It’s funny that they think that they’re losing this town. I mean, it isn’t even important in their goals, so why bother with us?” Feliciano sighed, placing his cheek down on the table with a yawn. Ludwig nodded a little, slightly lost in thought.

“Go to bed, Feliciano.” He said finally. Feliciano shook his head.

“Too tired.” He looked up at the German with his best puppy eyes before lifting his arms up towards him. “Carry me.” 

Ludwig rolled his eyes, but circled the table and grabbed onto Feliciano. With one fluid motion, he flung him over his shoulder, Feliciano letting out a giddy shriek. He carried the squirming Italian into his room and tossed him onto the bed. He was about to turn away when a hand grabbed his wrist. Ludwig immediately whipped back around, having not expected the contact. What he saw made his throat tighten.

The light coming from the doorway lit up Feliciano as he was lying back on the bed. He looked so . . . serene. Ludwig stood there, frozen as Feliciano was gently circling his thumb around on the inside of his wrist. Once he got his senses back, he tugged his hand away and abruptly spun around, heading towards the door.

“Ludwig.” A small voice called out. Ludwig stopped, contemplating his choices before turning around to face the Italian. Feliciano smiled a little bit, still lying on the bed, but now on his right side, resting his cheek against his bent arm. “Buona Notte.” Ludwig paused before sighing and crossing the room again, bending down. Gently, he pressed his lips against Feliciano’s cheek.

Immediately he realized what he did and quickly got to his feet, stammering an apology. He sped quickly to the door, but stopped, hand on the doorknob. 

“Gute Nacht.” He said before closing the door. Feliciano smiled a little, stroking his cheek before turning over and closing his eyes.


	3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three:

“FELICIANO!”  
Feliciano was jerked awake by the sound of someone screaming his name from the main room. Half-asleep, he threw his covers off of himself before stumbling out of bed and into the hallway. Leaning against the doorframe, his eyes barely open, he mumbled, “What is it? What’s wrong?”  
Antonio stood behind the table, grinning like a madman while holding a cup of coffee. “Breakfast.” Feliciano rolled his eyes.  
“You’re an asshole, Toni.” He grumbled, shuffling over to the table and plopping down in a chair, snatching the coffee from Antonio’s hand before downing the entire thing. The Spaniard’s smile softened a little.  
“You know, you act like your brother when you’ve just woken up.” Feliciano waved him off before sliding a plate of food towards himself. He squinted a little at it in confusion.  
“Toni, you’ve never made this before.” He mumbled before nudging the contents of the dish with the blunt end of his fork. Antonio laughed.  
“That’s because I didn’t make it, hermano!” The Italian glanced up at him suspiciously. “Ludwig did!” He tilted his head a little. “You know, I didn’t even know that Germans could cook.”  
Feliciano smiled a little before flipping his utensil around and digging into the breakfast that Ludwig had made. It was a little on the lukewarm side, but it wasn’t terrible. He coughed a little as he almost choked on a piece of sausage. Well, it was the thought that counts. Antonio had made him another cup of coffee, which he chugged gratefully, completely forgetting the fact that the liquid was scalding hot. Antonio yelped as the hot beverage was spewed out all over the front of his waiter’s uniform, frantically leaping to his feet before running around the room hollering in Spanish. Feliciano chuckled a little as he watched his friend flail, glad that his mood had improved since the previous day.

Ludwig pulled his jacket on, glancing around to make sure that he wasn’t being watched, or followed. Cautiously, he left the building, tucking a few papers into the inside pocket of his overcoat before lifting up his collar to block the breeze that was beginning to blow from the north. He still shivered.  
The north. That was where the action was, that was where he was supposed to be. He paused in his steps, ignoring the people that were bustling around him, despite it being around seven in the morning. That was where his brother was. Ludwig immediately began to walk again, faster this time, as if that would help to block out the thoughts of Gilbert.  
Gilbert. Gilbert lying in a trench, covered in blood, eyes empty as mud showered down on him from the explosions above, body unmoving as soldiers trampled him trying to escape the tragedy of their miserable existences. Little did they know, their existence wasn’t going to make it past day four.  
Ludwig clenched his fists tightly, allowing his untrimmed nails to dig into the flesh of his palms. He ignored the feeling of his blood dripping down his hands, focusing only on the pain. He was so engrossed in the thoughts of not thinking about his brother that he ran straight into someone.  
“Scusa, Signor!” The man snapped before going off in rapid Italian. Ludwig had no idea what the man was saying, but instead used that time to size him up in case the situation turned ugly. He was shorter than him, granted, but his right arm was bound in a tight sling. The man was also wearing a uniform, which was slightly dirty and looked as if it hadn’t been worn for years, which it probably hadn’t. His skin was strangely pale for the tone of tan that he was. He looked pissed off, granted, but Ludwig had little doubt that the man would throw the first punch. The thing that genuinely startled him, however, was the man’s eyes. They were a pleasant shade of gold-green, but they lacked any kindness. They were cold and unsympathetic, unwelcoming. They bore straight into Ludwig’s and made him cold to the bone. Ludwig bit the inside of his lip. Maybe he was going soft.  
The man narrowed his eyes a little before turning in a huff, heading down the street in the opposite direction. Ludwig watched him go. The man had a slight limp, but he was still standing straight and tall. He had fought in the war, Ludwig decided. Ludwig took his gaze off of the strange Italian before turning and heading back in the direction of the restaurant that he technically lived at now. The papers in his jacket felt heavy against his chest.

Antonio looked up from the table that he was holding conversation with when he heard the bell sound, implying that someone had entered the restaurant. “Buongiorno!” He greeted, turning towards the direction of the entrance. “Oh, Ludwig, it’s just you. Perfect timing!” Antonio quickly took off his apron before crossing over to the German, tossing the apron at him. “You bailed on me earlier, amigo! I had to do the morning rush alone, and you know how busy it gets!” Ludwig blinked at the rapid-fire commentary that was being shot at him, but tried his best to follow along. “So I talked to Feli, and we both agreed that since I was forced to work alone this morning, I get time to take a siesta.” Antonio glanced over at the clock by the kitchen. “Which I’ve decided is now. Have fun!” Antonio gave him a little wave before vanishing through the door leading to the upstairs area.  
Ludwig stood where he was left for a while, contemplating what the hell had just happened. Finally, he shook the thoughts out of his head and tied on the apron, heading over to the table that Antonio had abandoned.  
Feliciano watched Ludwig work. Granted, he still cooked, that was a given, but he was slightly concerned for the German. Ludwig seemed . . . distracted. His Italian was going out the window, he tripped over his own foot on two separate occasions, and he consistently kept bringing orders to the wrong tables. Feliciano sighed as he threw a pinch of salt into a pot of boiling water. If Ludwig kept this up, he’d get someone or himself hurt.  
As if on cue, Ludwig tripped into the kitchen.  
“I need three appetizer-sized antipastos and two–”  
“Ludwig, what’s been going on today?” Feliciano interrupted, leaning his forearms on the counter, frowning slightly. Ludwig gave him a blank look, making the Italian sigh. “You’ve been acting strange lately. You’re going to end up hurting yourself.”  
Ludwig scoffed a little at that thought. “I’ll be fine-”  
“No, you won’t be!” Feliciano slammed his fist down onto the counter. He paused for a second, taking a deep breath. “Go get Antonio. I don’t want you working for the rest of the day.” Ludwig bit the inside of his cheek as he looked down at Feliciano, who's face was hidden from him. Without saying anything else, Ludwig turned and left the kitchen, allowing the door to swing shut with a loud bang.

It had been a few hours since Antonio had to go back downstairs, and by the amount of daylight left in the sky, it was getting to be closer to the evening. Ludwig sighed. Antonio was going to be pissed about this.  
He thumbed through the stack of papers, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He was sitting in the window-bench, back leaning against the wall with the window to his left. Every now and then he would pause in his readings to gaze out of the window, allowing himself to zone out for a little while. Every time that he did that, however, he found that his thoughts would always drift back to that man that he had seen in the street. Ludwig hadn’t met any Italian soldiers when he was in Germany, so that was the first one that he had ever laid his eye upon. To be honest, it wasn’t what he was expecting. He thought that they would be much more flimsy and, well, timid. That was how the German army interpreted them anyways. But that man . . . he was anything but. He was a soldier who had been through hell and back, Ludwig decided. He had seen many other German soldiers like that man.  
Ludwig sighed, tearing himself away from the thoughts of that Italian soldier, and tried to dive back into the papers in his hand.  
“Was ist . . .” He mumbled, squinting at a page. Instructions and directions at first glance, like the rest of them, but this was in a different language. It was in English, for some goddamn reason that Ludwig didn’t feel like understanding. He sighed, skimming across the page.  
_For whom it may concern, I am, in fact, alive._  
Ludwig frowned a little. Maybe these weren’t directions.  
_I am in custody at the moment at  . I know that my brother will be looking for_  
_me, but tell him that I am in good hands._  
Definitely not directions, Ludwig decided.  
_I am in good hands._  
_I am going to be okay._  
_I am going to live._  
_Alfred, you’re going to be fine._  
_–Matthew_  
“Matthew?” Ludwig mumbled. For some reason that name sounded familiar to him. Suddenly, a scene from around a week ago flashed in his mind. “Matthew.” His voice was quieter this time. Matthew had gotten captured? Also, how the hell did he end up with this letter? Ludwig sighed, folding the paper over a few times before stuffing it back into his pocket. He’d contemplate this later, right now he was drained.

Ludwig had a dream that night, about his brother. Ludwig was walking down the street when suddenly he ran straight into someone. The person rounded on him, but instead of saying anything, they stared at him with empty, red eyes. Their hair was white. ‘Gilbert?’ Ludwig had asked, only to have his brother fade into dust, pooling into the ground before melting into a puddle of blood.  
Ludwig had woken up with tears in his eyes.  
He was going soft.

Feliciano decided to not open up the restaurant that day, as Antonio was absolutely exhausted from working all day the day before, and Ludwig was acting distant again. To be honest, Feliciano didn’t mind all that much, as it had been a while since any of them had gotten a break. It had been a little over a month since Ludwig had joined the team, and already Feliciano had worked him to the bone.  
The three of them were sitting around the dining room table, silent except for the sounds of eating. Ludwig had decided to make breakfast for everyone that morning, since he felt pretty guilty about the day before. At the moment, though, Ludwig was busy reading a fairly crumpled sheet of paper that he had taken out of his pocket. Antonio ignored him for the most part as he was focusing on drinking his coffee, but Feliciano was watching the German closely. He wanted to know what had Ludwig so distracted yesterday. Finally, he cleared his throat, making the other two men look over at him.  
“So, Ludwig . . . do you want to tell us where you went yesterday morning?” Feliciano asked, glancing over at the German, sipping casually at his mug. Ludwig sighed a little, his fingers playing with the piece of paper in his hands. Antonio looked at him expectantly.  
“Post office. Wanted to hear if there was any news of my brother.” He said quietly. It wasn’t a terrible lie, he did go into the part of town where the post office was located and he did want to hear information about his brother, but in all honesty he had to meet up with another German soldier to trade information for more instructions. However, he couldn’t exactly tell them that.  
Feliciano nodded a little, but Ludwig knew that that wasn’t all that he wanted to know. “And?” The Italian asked, making Ludwig sigh.  
“And nothing.” He said sharply, abruptly getting out of his seat and picking up his dishes before storming into the kitchen. Ludwig cringed internally, knowing how impolite that was of him to do. It was better than admitting to himself being a spy, hell, anything was better than him admitting to them that he was a Nazi spy. To be completely honest, sometimes he forgot that he was working against his flatmates. Ludwig paused in his washing. He was working against them, wasn’t he. He sighed, running a wet, soapy hand through his hair, a nervous habit. He heard footsteps approaching him from the other side of the room, making him tense up in anticipation. The footsteps stopped directly behind him, and Ludwig held his breath. A warm object pressed itself into the back of his left shoulder, and he slowly turned his head towards it. A head of auburn hair met his gaze, making him smile a little.  
“I know how you feel Ludwig, honestly.” Feliciano said quietly, muffled through the fabric of Ludwig’s shirt. Ludwig nodded a little, feeling slightly guilty that this action was spurred on by a lie, but appreciated the gesture nonetheless. Feliciano lifted his head from the German’s shoulder before looking up at his face, a slight smile on his face. “You really need to get your own wardrobe.” He smirked, reaching around Ludwig to put his dishes into the sink in front of him. Ludwig frowned, confused.  
“The clothes are fine. They are a little dirty, but they’ll do.” Feliciano laughed at that.  
“You’re wearing Antonio’s things! I think that he’d appreciate it if you got some things of your own.” He patted Ludwig’s shoulder, the fabric of the shirt he was wearing threatening to bust at the seams. “I also think that you’d appreciate getting some things that actually fit you.” Ludwig sighed, he couldn’t exactly argue with that. Feliciano grinned, victorious. He turned around briefly to yell over his shoulder, “Antonio, would you like to join us?”. He got a muffled, ‘No, gracias’ in response. He shrugged. “Guess it’s just you and me, Luddy.”  
After leaving Antonio with the rest of the dishes, Ludwig and Feliciano made their way into the street. Ludwig bit the inside of his cheek, slightly concerned.  
The street was almost completely void of people, save the occasional cycler making their rounds and himself and Feli. Instinctively, he felt Feliciano move slightly closer to him.  
“Isn’t it a Saturday?” Ludwig asked, his sense of unease growing. Feliciano was only able to nod in response.  
The two of them made their way down the sidewalk, Ludwig following slightly behind Feliciano as he led them to, well, Ludwig had no idea as to where exactly they were going. A piece of newspaper drifted by, getting stuck on a lamppost. A red car passed by, going slower than one would usually go in this town. Ludwig stiffened his back, his eyes flickering around, scanning the surroundings that encompassed the two pedestrians. The car stopped a short distance from them, the passenger window rolled down with a hand waving at them to stop.  
“You getting out?” A woman asked in Italian, to which Feli simply shook his head. The passenger exchanged a look with the driver before continuing. “You should do that, honey. They’re going to be coming soon, and who the hell knows what they’ll do when they get here.”  
“They who?” Feliciano asked, approaching the car and leaning over to look into the window. The woman let out a cold laugh.  
“Who else? The Germans!” She paused as the man next to her (judging by the ring on her finger, her husband), tapped her on the shoulder and whispered something into her ear. She nodded, continuing. “Apparently they’re three days to a week away, marching. By what I’ve heard on the radio, they’ve already burned down two towns on their way over.” Feliciano wrinkled his eyebrows in confusion.  
“Aren’t they supposed to be our allies?” He asked, glancing over at Ludwig. Ludwig’s blood ran cold. The woman in the car chuckled humorlessly.  
“Honey, that’s not going to stop them. They just want power, and they’ll stop at nothing to get it.” Her husband tapped her shoulder again, and she nodded at him. “We’re leaving, and we suggest you do the same. Better to get out too early and miss your home than to be buried in the rubble of it.” With that she gave them a little wave, making Feliciano step back from the car. They took off, leaving Feliciano and Ludwig alone on the road again. Feliciano didn’t move for a while, seeming to gather his thoughts together. Ludwig remained where he was as well, watching the other. Finally, after taking a deep breath, Feliciano continued down the street, Ludwig quickly picking up his pace to catch up to him.  
“What did you talk about?” Ludwig asked, slightly panting from the short sprint. “I couldn’t understand anything that you two were saying.” Feliciano sighed.  
“Let it go, Ludwig. It was nothing. Needed directions.” Ludwig glanced down at the Italian, worried. He hadn’t heard Feliciano talk in that tone; not to him anyways. Feliciano still refused to look at him. Ludwig looked away, down the road. In the distance, a hill rose up from the relatively flat area around the town, a road cutting through the vineyards. On that road, a red car made its way through the dust.  
Ludwig almost flinched when Feliciano suddenly grabbed his arm and pulled him into a building, but if he was being completely honest he wasn’t all that surprised anymore. There was a gentle ringing of a bell as they entered the shop. A man looked up from a cushioned chair, smiling gently at the two of them.  
“Buongiorno!” Feliciano greeted, and then went off on a conversation with the man, who Ludwig assumed was the owner of the shop. While they were going on and on about something that the German couldn’t bother to understand, Ludwig allowed his eyes to wander around the store. Suits lined racks, and folded shirts lined the shelves. They looked as if they hadn’t been touched for some time. Ludwig was about to browse through he articles of clothing when he was whisked into the back room with the owner and Feliciano. Embarrassingly, he let out a short cry of surprise, making the storeowner chuckle a little bit.  
The door slammed shut, and the owner cracked his knuckles, making the German frown a little with slight concern. Feliciano simply rolled his eyes at his suspicion. “Relax, Luddy. Lorenzo’s the best in all of Italy.” Lorenzo didn’t respond, only gestured for the German to take off his garments of clothing. Ludwig looked at Feliciano for reassurance, and when the Italian nodded, he slowly began to strip out of his shirt. He tossed it at the chair next to the one Feliciano had just sat down in, however said Italian caught the garment and began the process of folding it. Ludwig couldn’t help but roll his eyes a little in response to that gesture, but didn’t have enough desire to criticize the action. Almost immediately after he shucked off his trousers, Lorenzo was upon him, a measuring tape circling around his body with surprising speed, a quick scribble in his notebook before another speedy measurement. The measuring process took all of three minutes. Lorenzo went over to Feliciano and started discussing something with him in Italian again, leaving Ludwig completely out of the loop once again. He sighed, about to pull his pants on when he was whisked away into another room with a yelp. He could clearly hear Feliciano laughing as the door was closed.  
Ludwig had no idea what was going on, as Lorenzo had blindfolded him almost immediately after he had been sent into the room, putting him on edge even though the tailor assured him “It just until show. Feliciano wanted.” His bad English would have been borderline comical, except for the fact that Ludwig was on guard. What can he say, habits die hard. Ludwig felt fabric running up and down his body, and he felt himself tensing up even more. He hated this. He didn’t like the feeling of not having control. Lorenzo seemed to sense this, and he reassured him with a gentle shoulder rub for about a minute before continuing whatever it was that he was doing. Finally, after what had felt like hours, Ludwig was moved back into the other room, where his blindfold was taken off. He blinked rapidly, trying to get his eyes adjusted to the sudden onslaught of light. He heard a whistle from his left, and he attempted to shoot a glare in the person’s direction, but instead lost his balance and almost fell over.

  
Feliciano had been waiting for a while, and he was getting relatively bored with, well, waiting. He eventually got up and wandered around the room, looking into mirrors and examining his face. He had been getting skinnier lately. Feliciano frowned, stroking his cheekbone. With a sigh, he took a paper out of his pocket, skimming over the words before crumbling the sheet into a ball and throwing it across the room, clenching his hand into a fist. He cursed under his breath, running a hand through his hair. He looked across the room at the crumpled ball and sighed before making his way over and bending down, picking it up. Without unfolding it, he shoved the paper back into his pocket. He didn’t want to think about it.  
He quickly retreated back to his seat when he heard footsteps coming in his direction, sitting down just as the door swung open and Lorenzo entered with a blindfolded Ludwig. Feliciano couldn’t help but smirk at the sight of Ludwig in a blindfold. It was entertaining to see the German a little defenseless. Lorenzo nodded at Feliciano before taking the blindfold off Ludwig, who stood there, blinking as he tried to gather his surroundings. Feliciano let out a low whistle.  
The suit was a dark navy blue, and it accented the German’s eyes almost perfectly. The lighter blue stood out much more when it was placed among the sea of fabric.Ludwig spun around, attempting to look pissed, but instead looked startled as he lost his balance and fell over, getting caught by an annoyed-looking Lorenzo.  
“Don’t damage the suit!” He spat in Italian, making Feliciano burst out laughing. Ludwig got up and straightened himself out, scowling at him before glancing at his reflection. Feliciano watched as his eyes widened in surprise at his appearance. He probably forgot what he looked like when he wore clothes that actually fit him.  
“Three formal and five casual wears.” Feliciano told Lorenzo in Italian, who nodded before disappearing back into the main room, leaving the two alone. Feliciano smiled up at the German before walking next to him, brushing a forming wrinkle from his suit sleeve. “What do you think?” He asked, this time in English. Ludwig was transfixed at his reflection.  
“Ich–uh–I don’t remember the last time I wore something like this.” His voice was quiet, and he seemed a little distant. Feliciano gave him a gentle squeeze on his shoulder before dropping his hand to his side. Before it could land against his leg, however, Ludwig caught it. Feliciano didn’t show any sign that he was shocked, but internally his mind was spinning. Ludwig gently gave it a squeeze. “Danke, Feli.”  
Feliciano smiled at him again before Ludwig allowed his hand to be freed. Was Ludwig always this gentle? He was about to ask Ludwig something before Lorenzo burst into the room, pushing clothes into Feliciano’s arms and grabbing a slip of paper from him, then twittering something in Italian that made him pale.  
“Ludwig, get changed. We need to leave.” Feliciano instructed, grabbing a bag from Lorenzo before tossing one of the casual wears at Ludwig. He loaded the rest of the clothes into the bag and folded the top down. He looked over at Ludwig, who had already stripped out of his navy jacket. Once he was completely changed and Feliciano had put his clothes into the bag, he waved at Lorenzo before grabbing Ludwig’s wrist and towing him out of the store, back in the direction of the restaurant. Ludwig tried to say something, but his grip tightened, and Ludwig stopped his train of thought.  
Voices could be heard in the distance, speaking something other than the fluid Italian that Ludwig had grown used to hearing. He gripped Feliciano’s hand back possessively.  
The Germans were already here.


	4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four:

 

Feliciano was running as fast as he could, the voices growing louder and louder as he towed Ludwig back towards their home. Ludwig was gripping his hand tightly, tense as his eyes flickered around their surroundings. Feliciano was out of breath. He wasn’t used to exercise, if he was being completely honest with himself. He was just about to turn down their street when a stern voice hollered

“Halt!” 

Immediately Feliciano froze. Ludwig tugged on his hand to get him walking again, but Feliciano couldn’t find it in himself to move.

“Feliciano, we need to leave, now.” Ludwig growled, looking past said Italian and tugging on his hand again. “Feliciano, come on. They aren’t after us at the moment. We need to go!” Feliciano shook his head a little, trying to clear his mind. The germans were here. They were in the streets directly behind them. They were going to find out. They were going to kill them–“Feliciano!” Ludwig grabbed onto his arm and threw him onto his back before taking off into an alley. He dropped him onto the ground behind a pile of trash before kneeling in front of him. Feliciano looked up at him blankly, still tightly holding onto the bag of clothes. He gently stroked his cheek, and the Italian immediately looked back down again. “Feliciano?”

Feliciano looked up again, tears in his eyes. Ludwig felt startled, but he still continued to stroke his cheek. Feliciano tried to say something, but his voice caught in his throat. He sniffed a little before trying again. 

“Ludwig,” he started, swallowing. “Luddy, are we going to die?”   
Ludwig sighed, looking down. This time he was unable to speak. He looked up again, decided. “I don’t know,” he said finally, watching as the hope in Feliciano’s eyes started to fade. He sighed again, looking down. 

“Why are we here?” Ludwig looked confused, so Feliciano continued. “I mean, in this alley? I mean, we’re only a few blocks away from home.” Ludwig seemed to relax, and he dropped his hand onto Feliciano’s shoulder, allowing a sense of comfort to still remain present for him. 

“It’s out of the way. It’s better to get off the streets before you have a mental breakdown in front of a squadron of Nazis.” Feliciano smiled a little at him, then leaned his head against the wall of the alley, closing his eyes.

“Ludwig?” 

“Hm.” Feliciano opened his eyes again, amber meeting blue.

“What did you mean, ‘I don’t know’?” Ludwig sighed, breaking the eye contact. “Ludwig,” Feliciano grabbed his chin and lifted it up, forcing him to meet his eyes. “please.” Gunshots were heard in the distance, and Feliciano flinched, retracting his hand. He watched as the German’s eyes softened.

“We’re in the middle of a war, Feli. War’s unpredictable.” He shifted his gaze towards the road before sliding them back to the Italian’s face. “It can change in an instant.” Feliciano bit the inside of his cheek, hard. He felt the skin tear in between his teeth and the taste of blood filled the right side of his mouth. Ludwig continued, “In times like these, you need a constant. Something small, something that you know won’t change. Something to keep you sane.” He kept eye contact, lifting his hand up, attempting to tuck the stray curl behind his ear. It popped back up. Ludwig smiled again. Feliciano flinched as more gunshots were heard, this time closer. “It’s okay, Feli–Feli, look at me.” He cupped his cheek. “It’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay.” He looked down briefly, then back up again. “I’m going to keep you okay.” Feliciano smiled at him as Ludwig stroked his cheek with his thumb. “Feli–“  
Ludwig was interrupted as Feliciano grabbed the back of his neck and brought him forward, letting their lips touch. He tried to pull away, but his hand remained steadfast. Ludwig was frozen, and Feliciano reacted, gently pulling away, looking down.

“Ludwig, I’m . . .” He allowed his hand to drop down, unintentionally making it land in the other’s lap. “I’m sorry.” He finished. He looked up at the German, who was staring at the wall behind him, eyes distant. He blinked then, his eyes snapping back into the present. “Ludwig–”

This time Ludwig initiated the kiss, roughly grabbing the back of the Italian’s head, making him grunt a little into the other’s mouth. Feliciano melted into his touch, and Ludwig allowed his hand to relax and drift down the other’s arm. Feliciano wrapped his arms around Ludwig’s neck and pulled him closer, almost desperate. Ludwig pulled away to catch his breath, then crashed his mouth against his again. Feliciano groaned a little, running his hands down the German’s back. The sounds of the army faded away as they battled each other. Feliciano broke off, leaning his head down, resting against the bridge of the other’s nose and panted slightly for air. Ludwig gently nudged the Italian’s head before wrapping his arms around him. They didn’t say anything for a while, simply lying in each other’s arms as the sounds of the gunshots came and went. The chill of the winter wind hit them, and Ludwig drew away.

“We should head back.” He said quietly. Feliciano simply nodded in response, grabbing the bag and getting to his feet. Ludwig was on guard the entire way back, standing slightly behind and to the right of Feliciano. Feliciano didn’t say anything as they walked, all that they could hear from the other was the scuffing of shoes upon the sidewalk and the breathing of the other person. Every now and then gunshots and yelling could be heard in the distance. 

 

Feliciano opened the door and held it for Ludwig, then closed it, quickly locking it in place. He wasn’t going to be taking any chances. Ludwig was standing next to him, staring past him at something, but Feliciano had no idea what. Gently, he tugged on Ludwig’s sleeve.

“Lud, are you–” He cut himself off when he saw what the German was staring at.

A man stood next to the table where Antonio was sitting, staring (more like glaring) back at the two of them. His jaw was set, and he held himself up with a sense of forced pride. His right arm was tucked into a sling. His hair was slightly disheveled, and the uniform that he was wearing was worn out and dusty. His eyes flickered to Feliciano’s. He smiled slightly.

“LOVI!” He cried, running across the room and throwing himself at his brother. Lovino winced when he caught him, but ran his left arm up and down the other’s back as he tried to calm his sobbing brother. Feliciano couldn’t form words, he was too busy clutching onto Lovino as if he was going to disappear into thin air. Lovino let out a deep breath, coughing slightly. His brother let go, laughing with tears streaming down his face. “You’re alive.” He said, holding the other at arm’s length. Lovino let out a snort. 

“You could say that.” He grumbled. Antonio hit him lightly on the side.

“Be a little more positive, amigo.” Lovino groaned.

“I forgot that you spoke Spanish all the damn time.” Antonio smiled brightly up at him. Ludwig was confused. Feliciano gestured for the German to come over.

“Luddy, this is my brother, Lovino!” He said with almost a sense of giddiness. Ludwig nodded at him, and Lovino frowned. 

“You’re the asshole that ran into me yesterday.” He spat. Now it was Feliciano’s turn to look confused. Ludwig narrowed his eyes slightly.

“My apologies.” The frown turned into a scowl. The other two could feel a sense of tension building between Lovino and Ludwig.

“You’re German.” Lovino stated bluntly. Ludwig gave a slight nod, much to the other’s dismay. Lovino took a step back, the glare vanishing from his eyes to be replaced by fear. “You’re German.” He repeated, voice shaking slightly. Antonio stood up and tried to comfort him, but he immediately shook him off. Instinctively, his left hand reached up to cover the right side of his neck. He continued to back up. Feliciano grew increasingly worried.

“Lovi, it’s alright. He lives with us now. He’s not going to hurt you.” Lovino shook his head back and forth rapidly.

“No no no no no.” He looked desperately at Antonio. “Toni–”

“It’s alright.” Antonio stated, wrapping his arms around the other and holding him tightly as Lovino burst into tears. Ludwig glanced over at Feliciano. 

Feliciano was in a state of shock. Even though he was watching the entire scene, he couldn’t comprehend what was going on in front of him. Ludwig gently placed a hand on his shoulder, and he seemed to relax a little more. He reached up and gently squeezed the German’s hand in a silent thank you before allowing it to drop back down to his side. Lovino was slightly calmer now, though he was still covering his neck. As they all went upstairs, Antonio escorting Lovino, he didn’t take his gaze off of Ludwig the entire time.

 

“I don’t think that your brother likes me.” Ludwig said, gesturing to the waiter for another beer. Feliciano laughed a little before downing his drink.

“Lovi doesn’t like anybody.” He smacked the German’s back, making the ice rattle in his otherwise empty glass. Ludwig sighed.

“You saw how he reacted.” He mumbled, swishing the melting ice around. Now it was Feliciano’s turn to sigh. They didn’t say anything for a little while, Ludwig sipping on his beer as Feliciano swung shots. Finally, Feliciano cleared his throat and flipped his shot glass upside down. 

“There was a draft.” He glanced at Ludwig. “I’m sure you probably knew that already, but that’s how it went.” He flicked the side of his empty glass. “My grandfather is a well-respected man, so only one of us had to go. Everywhere else it was any able-bodied young man.” Feliciano sighed. “Classically, the oldest would automatically be sent, but Lovi has . . .” He paused, drumming his fingers on the counter as he tried to put what it was he wanted to say together. “problems.” He stopped again, then flipped the shot glass over and gestured to the bartender. Ludwig sighed, flipping the glass back down.

“I think you’ve had enough to drink, Feli.” He mumbled, sliding the glass away from the Italian. Feliciano whined a little, but didn’t say anything, instead reaching over and downing the German’s beer. Instantly he gagged, spitting most of it back into the glass and pushing it at Ludwig. The German looked down sadly at his ruined drink. “Was that entirely necessary?” Feliciano waved him off.

“Anywhore–”

“Feli . . .”

“Fine! _Anyways_ , I was the only other one in our family that could go. Lovi didn’t like that and– well you know the rest.” Feliciano sighed, looking over at a table in the corner of the bar. German soldiers were sitting there drinking and laughing, their hats sitting next to their cups as they drank and sang in German. “I don’t know what happened when he was away Lud,” he stated, not taking his eyes off of the soldiers. Ludwig followed his gaze. “Something happened, that much I know. He’s. . . different now. Something bad happened that changed him.” Ludwig looked away from the soldiers, instead focusing on Feliciano’s face.

“War changes people, Feli. Things happen, and it changes a man. It can’t be helped. Once you’re exposed to something horrible, there’s no going back.” Feliciano sighed, dropping his gaze down to the ground.

“How did it change you?” Ludwig froze. He tried to remember a time when he wasn’t in the army. Nothing came up at first, just vague memories of his brother and his father when they were younger. Then something clicked in his head. It was the time when he was first inducted into the army, before the war broke out. All he could remember clearly was feeling afraid. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“I’m not afraid anymore.” He said, looking at Feliciano. The other tilted his head slightly.

“That can’t be true.” Ludwig looked lost, so the Italian continued. “You have things to lose; you have to be scared. When you’ve got something to lose, you should be afraid of losing it, otherwise those things mean nothing to you.” Ludwig didn’t say anything, instead taking a sip of his beer. It was lukewarm, and there was white stuff floating at the top of his drink. Immediately he spit it out, remembering where that beer had been, much to the Italian’s amusement. The soldiers continued to get drunk in the corner.

 

The two of them got back around twelve in the morning, knocking chairs over as they tried to get upstairs, but Feliciano kept falling over and taking Ludwig with him. Ludwig groaned as his elbow hit a table leg, and Feliciano giggled, poking his throbbing arm. He tried to get up, but stumbled and gripped onto the edge of a table, letting a low chuckle escape his lips. Feliciano followed after him, tripping on Ludwig’s foot before crashing into the front of the German. They stayed like that for a while before Feliciano giggled again and poked the other’s nose.

“You know, you’re funny when you’re drunk.” He managed to get out, though his words were slightly slurred. Ludwig simply grunted in response, knowing that he wasn’t going to be able to speak English in this state. Instead, he grabbed Feliciano and pulled him closer to himself by his hips and crashed his lips onto the other’s. Feliciano responded immediately, though sloppily as he had taken a few too many shots. Hell, they both had a few too many alcohols. Ludwig groaned a little as he circled his thumbs on the bare skin on Feliciano’s hips. The Italian didn’t say anything, just took the other’s lower lip between his teeth and pulled gently, making the other grunt with satisfaction. He giggled again, causing Ludwig’s lip to snap back to its rightful place on his face. Feliciano looked up at him before licking his lips. Ludwig didn’t verbally respond, but his grip on the other’s waist tightened. Feliciano lunged forward, attacking Ludwig’s pale neck with his mouth, sucking and licking along the right side of the German’s neck. Ludwig groaned and leaned into the sensation. Unfortunately, he leaned too far. The next thing that Feliciano knew, Ludwig had lost his balance and had fallen over, knocking his head against the side of the table on the way down. He lay crumpled at his feet, and Feliciano yawned. It was late. Well, late or early, depending on how you looked at things. He prodded the German with his foot. Ludwig didn’t move. Feliciano shrugged before lying down next to Ludwig, resting his head on the unconscious man’s shoulder. He managed to fall asleep almost instantly, the slight buzz of liquor still present in his head.

 

Feliciano woke up around three AM with a throbbing headache. He tried to sit up, but found that there was a weight slung across his chest. With a groan, he managed to turn his head to the left. To his surprise, there was Ludwig, soundly asleep nuzzled into his left shoulder with his arm across Feliciano. Feliciano sighed before moving the German’s arm off of him before attempting to stand up. He wobbled a little, but managed to catch a table, allowing him to be able to steady himself. Holding his head with one hand and attempting to navigate the darkness with the other, Feliciano managed to find his way into the kitchen, where he poured himself a glass of water, downed it and repeated that sequence multiple times until he felt like he could think semi-clearly again. He grabbed a rag and doused it with water, tying the cloth around his head to help ease the pain a little bit better. He wandered back into the main dining area again. Feliciano was about to head upstairs and back into bed, but he caught a glimpse of Ludwig lying on the ground. He couldn’t make out much, but he could see the dark silhouette of the German on the floor, slightly accented by the moonlight. Feliciano sighed again. He couldn’t just leave him there. Making a choice, Feliciano wobbled over to the figure on the floor and bent down, slinging one of the German’s arms across his shoulders before standing up, groaning at the weight of the other man. He could do to loose a couple pounds of muscle mass.

Slowly, Feliciano managed to cross the dining area to the door to the apartment. He propped Ludwig up against the wall as he fished the key out from under his shirt. After unlocking the door, Feliciano picked Ludwig up again and groaned as he looked up the steep stairs. “You owe me one, Luddy.” He grumbled before kicking the door closed behind them. He took them one at a time, and after nearly fifteen minutes Feliciano managed to get both of them upstairs with minor injuries. Ludwig had a bruise on his arm where Feliciano had been gripping it too tight and Feliciano had a severely bruised ego. Maybe he should work out more often. The Italian took a short break, putting Ludwig on the ground in a way so that he _wouldn’t_ fall down the stairs as he grabbed another glass of water from the kitchen. What could he say, hydration is important. As Feliciano was heading back to retrieve the somehow still asleep German, he spotted a large blob on the couch. Feliciano allowed his eyes to adjust to the darkness a little better. 

On the couch lay Lovino, lying on his left side with his head towards the kitchen. Behind him lay Antonio, an arm draped protectively around the Italian with his head resting against the back of Lovino’s neck. They were both sound asleep. Feliciano sighed. Looks like he was going to have to take Ludwig all the way to his room. 

Another groan and a lot of shuffling later, Feliciano managed to get Ludwig back into his own bed. Almost out of spite, his headache came back immediately after he put the German down, making the Italian wince. He made a quick decision and went with it. He brought the sheets up around Ludwig and himself and snuggled into the pillow, allowing himself to fall asleep to the sound of Ludwig’s breathing. 


End file.
